


Love Carved by Hand

by Eggsyobsessed



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas Presents, Civilian Eggsy Unwin, Civilian Merlin, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Multiple, Some feels, Wood Carver!Merlin, Wood Shop, Wood carving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 06:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28346535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggsyobsessed/pseuds/Eggsyobsessed
Summary: Merlin, a wood carver and new shop owner, notices an attractive young man, dressed in rather gaudy trackies, observing his window display. He’s a nice distraction during a rather slow day, one Merlin never anticipated to see again.Except he returns, three days a week, to marvel the cherry finished wood carving of an angel. Merlin finds the lad peculiar, wishing he’d enter his shop just once, but he doesn’t. And it continues on like this for three months, until Christmas is just around the corner when Eggsy finally decides to enter.Eggsy’s in search of a gift for his mother, an ex addict finally free of Dean’s clutches. On his way home from work, he notices a new shop with a gorgeous wood carved angel. It’s a bit pricey, so takes Eggsy some time before he can purchase it. But once he can, he leaves the shop with more than just the intended item.
Relationships: Merlin/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 93
Collections: Kingsman: The Secret Santa 2020





	Love Carved by Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RaymondPalmersAss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaymondPalmersAss/gifts).



> This is my Secret Santa fic, prompt word was Angel. 
> 
> Raymondpalmersass, I hope you had a Merry Christmas, and the New Year is filled with wonderful things for you!
> 
> And a big shoutout to Lyssa, who so graciously gave this a beta read before I posted!

The first time Merlin noticed him it was a slow day in the shop. He’d just unpacked the last of his stock, displaying years of hard work in windows and cases throughout the quaint space. Merlin placed a walnut, cherry wood finished, carved angel in the center of his window display. He was most proud of that one, something he created with intentions for the buyer to find security and strength during a time that may be difficult.

Merlin stood with hands on his hips, a small smile played on his lips when the young man walked by. Dressed in the gaudiest track suit he’d ever seen, a black jacket with striking gold license plates with trousers to match and a white snapback. It was the first thing he noticed before his eyes focused on his face, a soft, pale peach complexion with circles under beautiful sea green eyes. Suddenly, he found it hard to deter his attention from him. He was young, surely in his twenties and far from Merlin’s reach, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the view as the lad clearly studied the angel Merlin had just set out.

A few other patrons stopped and looked, leaving shortly after with intentions of other purchases to make. But the young man stayed, a frown played over thin brows, creating a tiny V between them in evident contemplation. Merlin nearly went out to discuss the item with him, but he refrained in doing so, reminding himself why he did what he did; Merlin just didn’t believe in pushing his product on people.

Even if the hand carved, wooden figurines meant the world to him.

Woodcarving was a skill he learned decades ago, as a young lad, seated in his grandfather’s lap while he wielded a veiner, smoothing and shaping the wood into whatever object his mind imagined. Merlin was impressed, in awe of his skill, and craved to get his hands on a block of wood and turn it into something others admired. So his grandfather taught him all he knew, up until his hands couldn’t work the wood any longer, and Merlin spent the majority of his days carving wood while his grandfather watched and offered advice.

A vivid memory from his childhood that led him to this charming place, filled with objects he was so very proud of, and with the support of his mother and father, and a hefty inheritance left by his grandparents, Merlin was able to fulfill his dream. A woodshop, employed with just himself. It may be a secluded trade, but Merlin enjoyed the silence—much like his grandfather had—and welcomed the small profit that something he loved brought him.

By the time Merlin looked back through the window, the young man was gone. Like so many other passerbys, Merlin assumed it just wasn’t for him. There was a hefty price for items handmade, it was your time and heart that was at the cost of things people could have manufactured in a shop that cost a pence to make, and profited 200% that. Merlin knew there was no real money in woodcarving, but that didn’t stop him from heading back behind the counter, and picking up the custom ordered mother and child figurine for a customer.

The lad didn’t take up any space in his mind, not until Merlin saw him a few days later on a Wednesday evening. He was dressed in jeans this time, an orange adidas jacket with the same snapback and the same frown on his face.

Merlin put down his work, a new custom order for a set of grandparents from a lovely young lass. Their 60th wedding anniversary was just a month away, giving Merlin ample time to focus and take his time. He stood, coming round the counter, wondering if the lad would walk in today.

All he did was stare at the angel, a war displayed across his face, like it was the hardest decision he’d ever have to make. It couldn’t be for a Christmas gift, it was just three weeks shy of October and most people wouldn’t think of presents this early. Yet the young man stayed, hands shoved in pockets with a deep frown that lined his beautiful face. The need to smooth the wrinkled forehead, and soothe whatever troubles the lad had, crashed around him and overwhelmed Merlin.

This time he did head toward the door, but just as he had a couple days ago, the man left before he even touched the doorknob.

He was a peculiar lad, interesting in ways no other man had been to Merlin, and he hadn’t even spoken to him yet. But somehow Merlin felt like he’d known him for most of the year. It was in the way he held his shoulders, almost in defeat, a weight that no one so young should have to carry. Merlin could read a person rather well, and this lad was an open book; his expression gave away so much.

“Ye can’t fix the world.” He heard his ma say in his head.

And maybe this man didn’t need fixing, but there was just something that rubbed Merlin in a way that called to his heart, caused his arms to ache and pull him close with the promise there were better tomorrows. He was young and clearly troubled, and no one so handsome should wear an expression that belonged to an older person with decades of hardship. But his ma was right, and Merlin didn’t know this lad.

So he took his perch behind the counter, situated on a stool that was once housed in his grandfather’s work shed, and got back to work. The way his hand held wood, smooth and lumpy, not yet taken the shape of the image Merlin had in mind but on its way, and allowed his fingers to manipulate tools to ease his mind. And tried to forget the young man, the war in gorgeous eyes, hard lines where face should be smooth and untouched by whatever haunted him.

It was a useless attempt, at best, especially since the lad showed up again. That Friday, and continuously studied the angel Merlin had finished before his grandfather had passed. It took a lot of strength and determination to put that one on display, to sell something he finally felt satisfied with for the first time; his grandfather would be proud.

Merlin didn’t get up this time, just studied him like the stranger studied his work. He was art, it was easy to see the carefully sculpted muscles beneath layers, likely in effort to hide himself. There was no denying how attractive he was, even as he stood, almost in a brooding way, with so much trouble on his face. But Merlin could detect the beauty beyond his unspoken frustration.

And it continued this way for a month.

Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday this enchanted creature would stand before his window and study the angel Merlin had yet to sell. And it wasn’t solely because of the emotional attachment, or for lack of inquiries—he’d had quite a few in recent weeks—but only because this window shopper seemed to have an intent attraction to it. Call it stupid, naive if you will—which is certaintly something his mother would tell him—but Merlin hoped he’d decide to enter his shop and purchase it. Or at the very least, come in to speak with Merlin, maybe he could ask him for a cuppa from the coffee shop next door.

It was a long shot Merlin found himself willing to take, a risk he wouldn’t mind making. The worst thing to come of it would be he’d say no.

But he never did and the days continued to pass by. And before he knew it, November was already half over when the young man showed up again, but dressed worlds differently than previous months. They were crisp, professional even, far from the usual, casual and comforting ones that the other articles of clothing seemed to bring him.

This time he had pressed black trousers, a nice navy blue wool peacoat that covered his torso, though his hands were still shoved in pockets, and his head was without a snapback, showcasing a full head of honey-brown strands that were styled with a careful hand. Merlin thought the lad was handsome before, but now he was ethereal. Simply dashing, an elegance he hadn’t thought possible for a person to have, and yet here this man was in his window with the same frown on his lips, looking unashamedly attractive.

His nose was stained pink, as well as cheeks, from the bite of cold that bristled through the air. It was just a warning in anticipation of Winter's arrival, one Merlin dreaded; there was a reason he didn’t live in Scotland anymore.

Cold be damned, because Merlin intended to go out there, invite him in for a chat, maybe the promise of his warm shop would coax the lad in. But he couldn’t be bothered to do more than stand when a customer wondered in, inquiring about their custom order.

Maybe he’d never know what that breathtakingly gorgeous man was in search of.

Except one day, just two weeks before Christmas, when Merlin was his busiest between custom orders and buyers who wished to find a perfect, thoughtful gift for a loved one, the overhead doorbell rang. He’d have looked up immediately, if he wasn’t slammed with a backlog of online orders he needed to ship.

“Excuse me?” The voice was quiet, one he hadn’t heard before, and a bit uncertain.

“Just a moment, please.” Merlin held up a finger, signaling his request, and finished printing labels needed for the post later that day. He finally gave his attention, and was stunned once realization kicked in.

The same man who had stalked his display window for months, analyzing the angel Merlin had purposely not sold for months, was right there in his shop.

“Is that angel still for sale?” He went on to ask, a brow raised as he gestured behind himself toward the carved wooden angel.

\---

It took a long while to gather enough money, saved up all his checks from Tesco...well, what was left of them after bills and groceries were purchased. But he finally had the finances for his intended purchase. His careful budget wasn’t the only reason for his ability, but the apprenticeship at Kingsman, a Tailor shop that made and sold bespoke clothing.

“Headed to work, babe?” Michelle asked as she cleaned Daisy’s lunch mess. “Thought it was your day off?”

Eggsy wrapped a deep blue scarf around his neck, buttoned his peacoat, and slipped into his boots. “It is. But gotta finish some shopping.”

She smiled over her shoulder. “You ain’t gotta do that. Dais and I are perfectly happy to have you here.”

“I know.” He pressed a delicate kiss against her cheek. They were now filled in, soft and full of life. “But gotta get my girls something special, hm?” Eggsy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The last year had been the hardest and most rewarding of them all. They were finally free. Dean was no longer in their lives, no longer able to take every paycheck Eggsy earned, or any of the cash from stolen items...it was all his. No, theirs. It was for the family, for rent and food and goddamnit, clothing for Daisy and even his mother.

Eggsy worked with a counselor, part of his agreement when he turned Dean in and tried to save himself from a life of crime. It was the hardest decision he’d ever made, but it was the best thing he could do for himself and more importantly his girls.

“Go on then, yeah? Be back for dinner.” Michelle gently shooed him. Eggsy grinned at her, happier than ever to see that old spark back in dull eyes that were ravaged by drugs and abuse. Now she flourished, grew into this woman who was on her way to recovery and a brighter life. “Love you, babe.”

“Love you too, mum.” He ducked in, gave her another kiss, and wandered out the door with a destination in mind.

On his journey toward the woodmakers shop, Eggsy reflected a bit on the year.

They’d been through so much, come so far, that Eggsy had a specific gift for his mother. It wasn’t purchased yet, needing a good 200 pounds for it, but had the funds for that and more.

Kingsman was a generous company, his boss and mentor, Harry, was a decent bloke, one who knew Eggsy’s past and record, and took him in anyway. Said something about nobility found in one's former self, giving Eggsy the tools to achieve that. He’d gotten lucky, the job was everything Eggsy could have hoped for, and more. There was stability, longevity and security attached to it, something Eggsy never knew to be possible. Not since his father’s passing nearly 2 decades ago. Especially when he was raised to steal from more fortunate, never able to differentiate between what was right or wrong.

Survive, that’s all he knew, until he got himself into the shit and it was Dean’s freedom or Eggsy’s imprisonment. That’s when things changed, and Eggsy finally made the right steps to take control of his life, and save his mother and sister from his stepfather. Now Dean rotted in prison, instead of Eggsy, and they lived better than they ever had. Eggsy always thanked his father, who he thought of as his guardian angel, for the strength to do what was right before it was too late.

And that’s exactly why he stood in front of Merlin’s Woodshop, a simple name for not so simple and intricately crafted figurines.

Eggsy's never seen anything like it.

There was evident skill and love applied to each of the items in the shop, at least what Eggsy could see through the window, and he intended to purchase that angel on display. His mum could use a guardian angel, even if she swore he and Daisy were enough; Eggsy knew.

The demons haunted her, at night, in day, all the time. She were clean now, working with a women's group to claim her sobriety and life; Eggsy was so damn proud of her. But there were nothing wrong with a little help, a symbol as a reminder that she weren’t in this alone and maybe there was someone watching over her.

He found solace in the belief there was someone out there, looking over them, and Eggsy wanted to give that to her.

Eggsy stood in front of the clear glass door, watched as the bald man rummaged behind a counter, and pushed it open. A bell chimed, signaling his arrival, yet the man didn’t look up, just simply asked, in a beautiful Scottish brogue, for Eggsy to wait a mo.

Once he was given the shop workers attention, Eggsy was taken aback. He’d seen him countless times, hundreds probably, and yet he’d never once noticed how handsome he was.

For a brief moment, they just stared at one another until Eggsy found his voice and asked, “Is that angel still for sale?” When he didn’t get an answer, Eggsy continued, “Been keeping an eye on it, yeah?”

“I know.” That surprised Eggsy. “I’ve noticed ye, each time, and--”

“Yeah? Worried I was gonna rob the place, right?” Eggsy snapped, bristling with anger that this stranger assumed Eggsy was of illintent.

“No, that’s not what I was going to--”

Eggsy cut him off again. “Yeah, sure, bruv. Ain’t what it looked like, was it? A chav casing the place, looking from the outside in? Weren’t always dressed like this, were I?” He gestured toward his body, surely if he was noticed, the owner would recognize the difference between Eggsy then and now. “You know what? Maybe I ain’t gonna buy it.” Eggsy were pissed enough, he’d find a replacement for his mother.

“If ye’d let me speak!” Merlin growled until Eggsy shut his mouth and raised a brow. “I would have said, no. I noticed ye. And not because I thought you’d rob the place, ye didn’t come in now did ye?” Eggsy gaped at him, which caused a crooked grin to form over the Scot’s perfect lips. “Aye. I know a thing or two about casing a joint.” Now THAT shocked Eggsy. “But that’s beside the point.” He shook his head, looking a bit uncomfortable for a second, and said, “I noticed the handsome young man, staring at one of my proudest sculptures, and wondered when ye’d come in so I could introduce myself, get yer name.”

Eggsy swooned a moment, he clutched the rim of the counter to hold himself upright. Why would this man, who clearly had success on his side, want to talk with HIM? A chav, a crook, a man who barely hit 25 and JUST started to get his life under control?

“Hello, I’m Hamish, but friends and family know me by Merlin, and this is my shop.” Merlin’s smile was soft, so different from the hard angular features Eggsy observed over the last 3 months. “And the angel is for sale, aye.”

“Oh,” Eggsy squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Oh, I mean, that’s great.” He offered a weak smile, his cheeks hot and flush from the intensity of Merlin’s gaze. Those hazel eyes were deep, hooded with interest and a desire he’d never seen from another man; it warmed him from the toes up. “And Eggsy...my name’s Eggsy.” Eggsy reached across the counter for a handshake. Their skin touched, sending sparks through fingertips all the way to his heart; it was magical.

“Pleasure,” Merlin purred. “Let me get ye that.” He let go and fetched the angel. “For someone special, I presume?”

“Mmm.” Eggsy hummed while Merlin rang the item up. “My mum,” he added. “Been a rough year, figured she could use an angel with her.”

That enticed a warm, beautiful smile to take shape on Merlin’s lips. It was hard to look at anything else, he was incredibly attractive.

“Well then, I hope it brings her the safety she needs.” Merlin handed the carefully wrapped, and bagged, carving to Eggsy. “50 pounds,” Merlin informed him.

Eggsy dug for his wallet and froze. “Wait. What?” He knew damn well that sticker had said 200. “Weren’t it 200?”

Merlin’s grin morphed, softening further until it bled heat into Eggsy’s soul. There was something sharp in his eyes, in the way he looked at Eggsy, causing eggsy to feel like goo.

“It’s on sale. Couldn’t sell it,” Merlin explained.

“I can’t...that’s a beautiful piece of work. You’re very talented.”

“Thank ye, but it’s a clearanced item.”

Eggsy slowly handed his card over. “Thank you.” They made the exchange, Eggsy signed the receipt and took his bag. “She’s going to love this.”

Merlin nodded. “I hope so.” For reasons Eggsy couldn’t explain, he didn’t want to leave. “Oh, here.” Merlin handed him a business card. “For anything ye need. I make all sorts of things.” His eyes twinkled with an unspoken request that Eggsy didn’t understand. “Ye take care, and have a Happy Christmas.”

“Yeah, you too.” He reached the door.

“Oh, and Eggsy?” Eggsy stopped to look back. “Don’t be afraid to come in next time.” Merlin offered a delightful wink, and crooked grin that Eggsy suddenly didn’t want to stop staring at.

“Yeah, alright.” Eggsy left with a belly full of butterflies, and his purchased gift that he was sure hadn’t been on sale.

Halfway home, Eggsy studied the card in his pocket and noticed the personal number scrawled, in neat handwriting, on the back. It sat on his desk at home, until Christmas morning when Eggsy programmed it on his phone, sending a picture of his mum with the figurine and a Happy Christmas, hoping Merlin had one just as wonderful as his hard work had made theirs.

Eggsy was shocked to receive a message back. A text that wished Eggsy and his family a Happy Christmas, which soon turned into back and forth messages the entire day, and a coffee date after the New Year.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this, and are happy and healthy! 
> 
> Merry belated Christmas for those of you who celebrate, and Happy Holidays!


End file.
